Happy Holidays
by TheSummerNightingale
Summary: In which Hermione ice skates her problems away and Blaise watches her.


**Written for: The Winter Competition, Prompt #10 - ice skating**

* * *

They were gone. Hermione Granger knew it before Neville came barreling down the boys' dormitory stairs calling her name, before Dean Thomas caught up to them and described what had transpired the night before.

Hermione listened to their descriptions of Harry's panicked shouts and how he and Ron were ushered to Dumbledore, all with a grim expression on her face. Their worried, confused tones confirmed what she had felt instinctively in her heart - that trouble was brewing, and they were in the center of it.

She could barely respond to Neville and Dean, using an excuse to slip away. As she blindly scurried down the Grand Staircase, the facts of what had happened last night assaulted her one by one, and her worries whirled about Mr. Weasley, how Ron, and Ginny and the twins and Mrs. Weasley must be doing, and Harry, why he didn't say he was having his dreams again -

She had had grand study plans for the day, but even ten hours later, she could barely focus on Ancient Runes. The symbols swam muddily in her mind as she replayed Neville's words and pieced a rough sketch of what had happened: Harry had a dream about a snake biting Mr. Weasley, he and Ron went to Dumbledore, and they and the rest of the Weasleys had gone away in the middle of the night. God, she hoped that Mr. Weasley was okay -

Hermione shook her head as if to shake out the doubts racing in her mind, before closing her books altogether and standing up.

"I'll be back," she said to Neville, who had located her in the library and was studying with her.

She needed to get up, go outside, breathe some fresh air, and calm herself. The Weasleys and Harry were (probably) fine, or she would have heard bad news by now.

It was getting dark and lightly snowing outside, but tolerable enough for her to walk determinedly out to the Great Lake, to the tree that she and Ron and Harry always sat at. She placed her bag on the tree roots and leaned heavily against the trunk.

For a few minutes, the frigid air and stillness outside had the numbing effect she wanted. She was able to rationalize herself out of her worries one by one - first Ron, then Mr. Weasley, then for the rest of the family, and then, especially, Harry. She already decided she wanted to go to them as soon as the term ended, and appeased herself with the thought that there were only two more days.

But as soon as that thought crossed her mind, her frustration began to heat again. She couldn't send a letter to Grimmauld Place, she had no way of communicating with the boys. She swallowed hard, but her breaths kept coming out faster, clouding the air in front of her. She pushed herself off the tree and skidded onto the smooth ice of the Great Lake.

She blinked down at the glossy surface, and, after glancing around to see no one nearby, she impulsively pulled out her wand. She pointed it down and Transfigured her boots into a pair of brown ice skates, like the ones she had at home.

Hermione had always wanted to teach Harry how to skate. Apparently he didn't know how. She would teach him, when they came back in January. But for now, she stepped onto the ice, cautiously, then smoothly out onto the middle of the lake, like she was a bird and flying across the world.

Gliding over the smooth ice, Hermione stubbornly fooled herself into thinking that the rush of wind in her ears and the lightness she felt with her arms stretched out and head tipped back was enough to levy the dread in her heart.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was taking a walk after finishing his Transfiguration final, when a flash of movement on the Great Lake caught his attention.

He stopped in his snowy tracks, raising his eyebrows. He strolled off the path toward the edge of the Great Lake, wondering who was crazy enough to be skating out here in the near dark. Probably some cocky first-year or second-year with only a Defense Against the Dark Arts final left to take tomorrow, he thought.

But Blaise discovered soon enough that it wasn't a younger student. It was a girl, at least a fourth-year, gliding across the ice confidently. He crossed his arms and, relaxing against a tree, figured he had some time to spare to analyze the girl skating around in the dim evening light for no reason.

He was a better skater than her - but that wasn't to say that the girl was bad. In fact, he would even say she was good. She was a little choppy on her feet, but she managed to spin in a circle for a few seconds without losing her balance, and painted a rather graceful figure on the ice.

No sooner did this commendation cross his mind did she started wobbling. Blaise twitched as she lost control and landed with a cry and thump on the ice he could hear from where he sat.

He craned his neck to get a better view of the girl, leaning back when she seemed to be fine (he didn't want to have to go out and save her out of moral duty, if she had hurt herself). Her hat had fallen off during the slip though, and was lying on the ice by her feet; he wondered amusedly how this girl's massive mane of hair could fit under the little pink hat, because with it off, he could see that she had lots of hair, all brown and curly -

And oh, Salazar, he knew who had a nest of hair like that.

He almost choked on his breath as Granger picked her hat up and adjusted it back on her head. She got back to her feet as he stared at her rather disbelievingly - because for Merlin's sake, he had just been complimenting her.

Suddenly, as if she could suddenly feel his eyes on the back of her head, Granger whipped around. Her eyes locked on his figure, and she made direct eye contact with him before he could even think to look away.

Blaise tensed, but doubted Granger could see the way he felt frozen in place from where she stood. For some reason, her eyes seemed to be boring into his skin. He tried to ignore it; he made himself straighten up before flashing her a wide, innocent smirk.

She wasn't unnerved; instead, her eyes narrowed even more, and for a moment, that was how they stood - Granger glaring at him through the flakes of snow, falling faster now, and Blaise surprisingly taken by her eyes, which were glaring at him yet seemed unfocused, undeniably distracted by something (if the rumors were true, he knew why).

Eventually, Blaise, unable to explain why his usual countenance was failing him under Hermione Granger's stare, set a final cool smile on his face. He turned away before the Gryffindor's eyes could pierce him any longer.

* * *

Two days later, Hermione stood anxiously at the station, gripping her luggage as the doors of the Hogwarts Express swung open. She clambered on, one of the first to enter the snug train and slip into a compartment.

What was usually a raucous trip home, with herself, Ron, Harry, the twins, and Lee Jordan, all packed into one compartment and stuffing their faces with candy, seemed like it was going to be lonely and anxious, as laughter rang throughout the train's corridors outside her compartment. She knew the train must be filling up, though she couldn't see; the blinds were still over the compartment door and she didn't bother to open them.

Hermione was alone for a good ten minutes, before someone opened the door. Stopping in the middle of her thoughts, she looked up to hear the person looking behind him and calling out, "I always find the best ones -"

He cut himself off as he finally noticed Hermione staring at him with growing apprehension.

"Oh," Blaise Zabini said, eyes amused just like they had been as he eyed her yesterday by the Great Lake, when she had been skating and "alone". "Granger."

She did not levy her gaze at him, only arched an eyebrow at his easy smile. It was turning into a smirk by the second - an infuriatingly cocky smirk that made her want to glare at him even more.

He turned around as if to leave, but then halted, twisting his body back around, to say mischievously, "By the way, you're a pretty good skater."

Hermione ignored his amused smile and shot back, "And why were you watching?"

Blaise's smile widened. "I didn't think that it was you." He walked backwards and stepped out of her compartment. "I'm in a good mood, so happy Christmas, Granger."

She nearly gaped as he closed the door behind her. Through the glass door, she heard him laugh and yell to someone down the corridor, "Still going to make it!" before his footsteps receded.

Eight hours later, she was flying out of the train, anxious to see her parents and even more to finally be able to see the Weasleys and Harry. On the way out, she accidentally elbowed someone in the stomach.

It was fate that the curse word that came out of the person's mouth was in a voice whose slight Italian accent she now recognized. Hermione stopped and whipped her gaze around to see Zabini wincing slightly.

He met her gaze and almost immediately snorted. "Watch where you're going, Granger."

Maybe it was because his tone wasn't threatening or callous or even disgruntled. Maybe it was because she recalled his grin at her, his words earlier on the train. Maybe it was just because she was so eager to see Harry and Ron and her parents soon, that some of it exploded into positive energy for her.

Whatever it was, she shook her head a little at Blaise and said sincerely, looking into his dark brown eyes, "Happy holidays, Zabini," before turning around and setting into the crowd again.


End file.
